Be in earnest, Christian toilers,
Life is not the summer, dream
Of the careless, child that gathers
Daisies in the noontide beam!
It hath conflict, it hath danger,
It hath sorrow, toil, and strife;
Yet the weak alone will falter
In the battle-field of life.

There are burdens you may lighten,
Toiling, struggling ones may cheer,
Tear-dimmed eyes that you may brighten,
Thorny paths that you may clear;—
Erring ones, despised, neglected,
You may lead to duty back,—
Beacon-lights to be erected,
All along life's crowded track.

There are wrongs that must be righted,
Sacred rights to be sustained,
Truths, though trampled long and slighted,
'Mid the strife to be maintained;—
Heavy, brooding mists to scatter—
Mists of ignorance and sin,—
Walls of adamant to shatter,
Thus to let God's sunlight in.

Boundless is the field and fertile,
Let the ploughshare deep be driven;
So, at length, the plenteous harvest
Shall look smiling up to heaven!
Sow the seed at early morning,
Nor at evening stay thy hand;
Precious fruits, the earth adorning,
Shall at length around thee stand

Be in earnest, Christian toilers,
Life is not the summer-dream
Of the careless child that gathers
Daisies in the noontide beam!
Life hath conflict, toil, and danger,—
It hath sorrow, pain, and strife,—
Yet the weak alone will falter
In the battle-field of life!